“Nothing,” I lie and walk over to the half-full coffeepot. “You’d think they’d have a Keurig, rich bastards.”
Tessa laughs at my remark. “I’m glad they don’t. I hate those things.” She leans on her elbows on the kitchen island, and her hair falls down to frame her face.
“Me, too.” I glance around the spacious kitchen and back to Tessa’s chest as she stands up straight. “What time do you have to leave?” I ask. She crosses her arms in front of her chest, blocking my view.
“Twenty minutes.”
“Dammit.” I sigh, and we both bring our coffee mugs to our mouths at the same time.
“You should have woken me up. Tell Vance you’re not coming in.”
“No!” She blows at the steaming cup of coffee in her hand.
“Yes.”
“No,” she says with a firm voice. “I can’t take advantage of my personal relationship with him like that.” Her choice of words sends an unwelcome annoyance through me.
“It’s not a ‘personal relationship.’ You’re staying here because you’re friends with Kimberly, and ultimately because I introduced you to Vance in the first place,” I remind her, fully aware of just how annoyed she gets when I bring this up with her.
Her blue-gray eyes roll back dramatically, and she strides across the rich hardwood flooring, her heels clicking loudly as she passes me. My fingers hook around her elbow, halting her dramatic exit.
I pull her to my chest and press my lips against the base of her throat. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To my room to grab my bag,” she says. But the heavy rising and falling of her chest completely contradicts her cool tone and cooler gaze.
“Tell him you need more time,” I demand, barely brushing my lips over the flushed skin below her neck. She tries to appear unaffected by my touch, but I know better. I know her body better than she does.
“No.” She makes a minimal effort to pull away, just to be able to tell herself that she did. “I don’t want to take advantage of him. They’re already letting me stay here for free.”
I’m not budging. “I’ll call him, then,” I say. He doesn’t need her at the office today. He already has her three days a week. I need her more than Vance Publishing does.
“Hardin . . .” She reaches for my hand before I can dig into my pocket to retrieve my cell phone. “I’ll call Kim.” She frowns, and I’m surprised and very grateful that she gave in so quickly.
Chapter one hundred and five
TESSA
Kim. Hey, it’s Tessa. I was—”
“Go ahead.” She cuts me off. “I already told Christian you probably wouldn’t be in today.”
“I’m sorry for asking. I—”
“Tessa, it’s fine. We get it.” The sincerity in her voice makes me smile despite my annoyance with Hardin. It’s nice to finally have a female friend. The weight of Steph’s betrayal is something I’m having a hard time lifting from my chest. I look around my temporary bedroom and remind myself that I’m hours away from her, from that campus, from all the friends I thought I had made during my first semester at college, all of them fakes. This is my life now. Seattle is where I belong, and I’ll never have to see Steph or any of them again.
“Thank you so much,” I tell her.
“You don’t have to thank me. Just remember that all the main rooms in the house are under surveillance.” Kimberly laughs. “I’m sure that after the gym incident you wouldn’t forget that.”
My eyes dart up to Hardin as he enters the bedroom.
His expectant grin and the way those dark blue jeans hang low on his hips distract me from Kimberly’s words. I have to scramble to remember what she said only seconds ago.
The gym? Oh God. My blood runs cold, and Hardin stalks toward me.
“Um, yeah,” I mumble, holding my hand up to stop Hardin from coming any closer.
“Have fun.” Kimberly ends the call.
“They have cameras in the gym! They saw us!” I say, panicking.
Hardin shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “They turned them off before they saw anything.”
“Hardin! They know we . . . you know, in their gym!” My hands fly through the air in front of me. “I’m so mortified!” I cover my face with my hands, but Hardin quickly removes them.
“They didn’t see anything. I spoke to them already. Calm down. Don’t you think I would’ve lost my shit if he’d actually seen anything on tape?”
I relax, slightly. He’s right; he would’ve been much more upset than he appears to be right now, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not completely humiliated by the fact that they know, even if they did stop the tape.
But wait, what does “tape” even mean here—everything’s digital. And they could have just said they stopped the cameras but really all they did was just look away . . .
“The footage . . . it’s not saved anywhere or anything, right?” I can’t help but ask the question. My fingertip traces over the small cross tattoo on Hardin’s hand.
Hardin lowers his eyes at me defensively. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Hardin’s . . . old hobbies flash through my mind. “That’s not what I meant,” I say quickly. Maybe too quickly.
“You sure?” he asks. I watch as his features harden and his eyes fill with guilt. “I mean, how would you know what I was worried you were thinking about if you hadn’t already been thinking about it yourself?”